Christina felt the rifle smack softly against the bottom of her shoes. The move was meant to indicate that she should pull her feet up.
She rolled her eyes and glared at the man who'd done it.
“Hey,” he gruffed back. “Out of my way.” He said this as he walked directly into the path where her legs stuck in front of her. He'd done it only to cause problems.
This was the part she hated, playing nice, playing victim. He tapped on her shoes again. Sarcastically, and with an additional glare, she pulled her feet back maybe six inches.
He walked around the space she’d vacated, his rifle swinging until he turned around and swung the barrel up and toward her. His eyes sighting down at her. But what Christina found odd was that the barrel was aimed all of six inches to the left of her hip. Jesus, is he a Stormtrooper? That had to be was the worst aim she'd ever seen.
Then he started talking, his voice harsh but low.
“Listen.” He moved the rifle a bit, changing his aim as though he were pointing with it. “I just wanted to let you know that Will has people embedded on this side, too.”
It took everything she had not to let her eyes pop wide and her mouth fall open as his words hit her. His tone was angry. His expression was focused and rude. Both were discordant with his words.
Is this a trap?
Surely everyone knew Will. It would be so easy to say that… This soldier might think he could get her and her people to spill secrets to use against them.
She glared at him in response, and in reply, he reiterated what he’d said. “We're taking you to someone higher up the chain. Just so you know, no one's going to hurt you for now.”
The “for now” part bothered her, as he seemed to be sharing information. Maybe it was a subtle threat. Maybe it was tacked onto a not-too-subtle lie.
It seemed he realized that she wasn’t quite ready to trust him or his ploy for allyship.
He knelt down, pushing up close to her face as though glaring at her. His rifle was now down at his side, and her fellow agents watched the odd conversation. Christina wondered if they were close enough to hear that his words didn't match his actions.
Reaching up with his free hand, he pulled down the goggles and let her see his eyes with no obstruction. The icy blue color was familiar. The black hair just sticking out from under the edge of his thick protective helmet also triggered a memory.
As she remembered that particular combination of coloring, he said, “We met outside a bar. At the edge of the back parking lot.”
The wolf in the woods, Christina thought. The one who'd barely answered her questions and then disappeared.
Somehow, he was here, now. With the Aegis team.
He walked a circle around them again as though monitoring the space for a surprise attack. Then he reached down and grabbed for the water bottles, giving each of his captives a moment to get a drink.
Just like before, his motions indicated he was angry or irritated that he even had this job. But when he cycled back to Christina, he said, “I was out monitoring the numbers coming into the area. My job was to join up with anyone on Marks’ team and relay information back to the compound.”
Then he leaned down and murmured, “When you get back to see Will, let him know there's a mole in the family.”
She almost threw her head back and laughed.
They all knew there was a mole in the compound.
She wanted to ask what he meant, to see if he understood what he was saying. Because honestly, it was a great gambit to throw out to a captive, true or not. She was about to ask him to prove his side by stating who the mole was, but the other soldiers reappeared then and made it clear that her agents were going to be taken on the move again.
Rough hands yanked her to her feet. The five of them once again line-marched through the grass and trees. She checked the angle of the sun and her own internal compass. They were headed mostly northwest. And, though they were a good distance from the property line, they weren't getting any farther away from the compound.
Interesting, she thought. The ring around the de Gottardi/Little farm was tight.
Less than fifteen minutes later, they came upon another group, even bigger than the last had been.
The first had surprised her with their size. This one was stunning. How were there this many people, and this much activity, so close to the edge of the farm property?
How had they not been found and reported?
Surely Will would have noticed if his soldiers came out here. They would have seen this and told him… or, she realized, they might have come out this direction and never returned. But Will would have figured that out. Were they concealed? Were they somehow cloaked—something along the lines of what Christina could do, but on a grander scale? She didn’t know.
Her attention was drawn away as the crowds parted.
A lot of these people wore no helmets or even gear. Christina initially assumed they were wolves, but she saw some faces she knew and realized that wasn’t entirely the case. They were here and they felt safe enough to be unarmed and unprotected.
She recognized Shray Menon right away.
Without the gear covering him almost head to toe, it was obvious this was the man she’d suspected. Christina could now check the box that he had survived their last encounter here at the farm.
Fuck, she thought, no one needed that reminder. Even as she thought it, she began to wonder if Marks wasn't far behind. It took only another few seconds before she spotted him.
Marks stood up and covered the distance from the center where he held court to where the captives had been hauled in. But Christina wasn't the only one who'd recognized him.
Beside her, GJ went rigid. Without permission from their captors or instructions from her, the junior agent began to stalk her way forward.
Though one of the soldiers put out an arm to stop her, it was Marks himself who waved the man away. He recognized his own granddaughter, despite her helmet and heavy gear.
She marched straight up to his face and greeted him, her eyes pinning him with a stark glare, her tone vicious as she snarled, “Grandfather.”